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Summary: Giles and Jenny make plans. Post S7 finale.

He'd taken off his wedding ring. Just in case it got damaged, he'd said. It wouldn't do at all if it got scratched, she'd seen the state of the Turok-hans' nails hadn't she? Quite filthy. Keep it safe, he'd said and he'd put it straight back on as soon as it was over. There'd been a second where they'd both stood still, looking at each other with the ring in the middle of his outstretched palm and they'd acknowledged the possibility that one or both of them could be dead by the end of the day. Then she'd nodded tightly, took it from him and strode off down the hall to help Willow with the spell. Almost too fast for him to catch the one or two tears that had escaped. Afterwards, when they'd been silently taking in the wreckage of Sunnydale she'd replaced it very firmly despite her slightly shaking hand. 'I'd better not see you taking it off again' was all that needed to be said. They'd survived.

A week's passed now and they've separated from the others. She'd woken up after a tequila induced sleep and found him in the parking lot of the seedy motel they'd found for the first night after the nearly apocalypse and he was standing next to a new car. Thankfully a little less ostentatious than the mid-life crisis mobile. He'd never been on a road trip, he'd told her, grinning widely, and that was really was unacceptable at his age. They could go somewhere terribly tacky like Graceland or Coney Island and eat corndogs and drink Budweiser. She'd raised an eyebrow and he'd mumbled that there might be an occult book fair happening in a few days in Phoenix which they could drop in on but for the rest she could have a real American vacation. He could even tolerate Disneyworld for a few days. It would have been ungrateful really to reject such a generous offer so she'd returned his excited smile and found herself on the highway south.

They've stayed somewhere different every night, nowhere remarkable but they've enjoyed themselves. Tonight they're in Corpus Christi, Texas and he's still fuming that he was completely hopeless at beach volleyball. If she'd challenged him to a game of cricket on the beach it would have been a different story apparently. That was in the day though and it's only really with the safety of darkness that she feels she can ask the questions that have been playing on her mind for the past few weeks:

'Rupert, what's going to happen now?'

'Now that we've destroyed the Hellmouth you mean?'

'Yeah, now that we've kicked some serious evil ass.'

She feels him smile against her neck and he kisses her there.

'I've heard about another Hellmouth, actually. In Cleveland.'

'I am not moving to Cleveland. I'm way too cool to live in Ohio.'

That provokes a half amused, half disapproving snort of laughter.

'Alright then, not Cleveland. Where did you have in mind?'

'Someplace boring. But pretty. And I want a house with a backyard. I'm not living in any more of your bachelor pads where we're always tripping over your crap.'

'Books are not crap.'

'Whatever. You can have a book room in the house so you don't get mad at me for using them as coasters.'

'Really, Jenny- I only got angry once and it was a very rare text that you spilled coffee on...'

'Hmm. Where shall we have our house?'

'Well, I suppose they'll want me to be involved with the running of the new Council.'

'So, England then. That's cool, I liked it there. You pick a nice small place with good wi-fi.'

There's a short silence as he contemplates possibilities.

'You know I went to Cornwall on holiday when I was a child and I was quite taken with it. You'd like it there, they have nice beaches.'

It's a sign of how long they've been married that he can sense her skepticism.

'They have sand, Jenny. It won't be like the disappointment of Brighton.'

'Okay. Well, good then, that's settled. Sand beaches and lots of pubs, I can live with that. I think we'll need a four bed house by the way.'

'Oh...ah, really?'

'Yeah. One for us, obviously and you need somewhere to put your precious books. And then that leaves two for...'

She can't quite bring herself to voice aloud the thing that she wants so much, that she'd thought she'd never have but now seems so tantalisingly possible. They've never talked about it before and she's still a little bit afraid he'll shoot her down. So it's a relief when he steps up and says it for her.

'For the children.'

'Well, yeah. I mean, I know that doing what we did doesn't mean that evil is gone and we'll never be free of it. I know that. But we'll be freer. And I think our kids could have a pretty normal life, not some weird screwed up upbringing like we had. I uh, I think our kids would be pretty awesome actually.'

He's indignant actually on behalf of his unborn children that anyone would consider them to be anything less than awesome. Not that they'll be saying any horrible American words like that, he'll make sure of that.

'And you definitely want two?'

'Only children are weird. Look at you. Plus, one of them is sure to get your eyesight so they'll need the other one to lead them around when they lose their glasses.'

'My eyesight isn't that bad you know. I only tried to answer the remote control once and-'

'The light was bad, yeah. I'm serious though, Rupert. I think of our half-blind bookwormy kids and I love them. I really want them. Are you in?'

He surprises himself with just how much he's in, already he has a little secret wish that at least one of them is a girl with dark hair and attitude but he doesn't mind really. Boys will be fun too and he'll ensure that they play proper sports like rugby. Not too much television either and definitely none of those hideous games consoles...

'I'm in.'

'Okay, good. Just so you know I expect you to wait on me hand and foot when I'm pregnant.'

'Alright, fair enough.'

'And Rupert?'

'Yes?'

'Kids need a dog. And you're not picking the names. For the dog or the kids.'

fin